


Stolen Hours

by NachoDiablo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Come Eating, M/M, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Samwich, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: "Steve grins to himself. He’s always loved taking Sam apart and lavishing him with love. And tonight, Sam’s gong to get two Steves worth of devotion."After the Snap, Steve winds up back where he and Sam first started.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson/Steve Rogers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 88





	Stolen Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinni/gifts).

> Thank you to [Cinni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinni) for the encouragement and [Sadie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadieb798) for the beta help! <3 <3 <3

Once Steve catches his breath, he loses it once more as he realizes where he’s at. Wooden steps, drawn shades, sliding glass door, mailbox with yesterday’s paper still wedged at the bottom. He smiles to himself. Maybe, finally, he’s dead too, like so many of his loved ones. Maybe this is heaven. 

Or maybe he should have just shaved off his damn beard as planned instead of poking around the Asgardian relics in Thor’s room. Then again, whatever reason that weird purple and blue orb brought him to this door, he’s at peace with that decision.

Shoulders squared, he ascends the steps with purpose. When he reaches the door and raises a fist to knock, there’s only a second of hesitation before his knuckles rap against the glass. The door creaks open a crack, then widens, as do the warm brown eyes that stare into his own. 

“Steve?” The eyes narrow as they take in the four years worth of lines and beard that Steve’s collected since the first time they were in this moment. Steve’s clad in only a pair of sweatpants and an undershirt, the same thing he’d been hanging around the compound all day in. The sharp sting of gravel pressing into his big toe startles him. He’d forgotten he was barefoot.

There’s no room in his head to think about anything other than the man standing before him in a fitted shirt, rimmed with sweat around the collar. His cheekbones are smooth, glinting with a post-exercise glow around his freshly trimmed beard. There are no lines on his face, save the few that mar his forehead in his wary expression.

_ Sam.  _ Steve doesn’t dare let the name slip past his lips, lest he break whatever spell he’s under. As much as he regrets not being there when Sam was taken from him, he has no desire to watch him dissolve away for a second time.

Sam gestures towards Steve’s face and grins. “Damn, that serum’s no joke, huh? Or is this some sort of werewolf thing, or--”

_ “Sam.” _ Steve’s voice breaks as he presses his fists against the sides of his sweatpants. He walks right up to the edge of the doorway. “Sam, it’s… can I…”

Sam moves aside and ushers Steve through the door. 

“What’s going on?” he asks in a voice laced with concern. 

He turns to close the door; the loss of Sam’s eyes against Steve causes a physical pain, as though one of his own limbs was ripped away. Before the door can latch completely, Steve’s hands are on Sam’s shoulders, pulling him closer, drinking in every detail. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the flecks of amber glinting in his irises, the slight chap of his lower lip that gets drawn between his teeth for a moment too long. Steve wants to wind his limbs around Sam and pull tight, tight, tighter, until there’s no way for Sam to leave him again.

But the look of alarm on Sam’s face makes him pull back. Clearly, this Sam hasn’t had any rogue SHIELD agents pop up at his door for shelter quite yet. This Sam hasn’t revealed himself as a bad ass angel with graceful wings and sick knife skills. This Sam hasn’t had a first kiss with Steve.

Well. That part’s an easy change, at least.

Steve ducks his head and looks at Sam through his lashes. His face relaxes into the smile he knows damn well Sam can’t resist. Sure enough, Sam’s shoulders stoop a little and his lips part, sure signs that he’s blushing. A thrill runs through Steve as he takes a step forward and rests his hands back on Sam’s shoulders.

“Sam,” he says in his most serious tone, “something’s happened. SHIELD’s compromised, and I need a place to lie low.”

It’s not technically a lie. Sam recognizes the ring of truth as he fixes Steve with an intense stare. He nods once, almost imperceptibly, and Steve continues.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he says. Again, not a lie. He has no idea what the fuck is going on right now, how can he know what will happen next? “But you and I, we… we fit, together. Regardless of what happens later, please, can I have just one kiss now?”

It’s a bit of a line, and Sam’s arched eyebrow acknowledges that. But he leans into Steve’s fingers as they brush against his jawline. He rolls his eyes, but reaches out to rest a hand on Steve’s waist and tilts his head.

Steve wastes no time as he dips down to capture Sam’s lips. The kiss starts out innocent enough, closed off and gentle, but Steve’s hands wander down to Sam’s hips, fingertips gripping just slightly more firm than they should, and Sam’s lips part as he inhales. Steve dives deeper, sucks on his lower lip, slips his tongue to tangle with Sam’s, pulls Sam’s hips flush against his own. Sam gasps against Steve’s mouth, and just like that they melt together, every touch responded to as though it’s a coordinated dance to which they’ve memorized the steps.

Somehow they wind up on the couch, Steve’s pressed back against the cushions with Sam in his lap. He arches upwards as Sam grinds down, and it’s perfect, everything that Steve’s been missing these past few weeks.

Except… it’s  _ not _ quite everything.

Steve has four years of loving Sam under his belt. He knows every trick to coax those shuddering sighs from Sam’s lips. He can sense when Sam’s getting close, and when it’s too much. He could have Sam breathless and spent in seconds, if he used all the tricks in his arsenal.

But this Sam isn’t  _ his _ Sam. This Sam has only met Steve a few times. This Sam is still navigating his connection to Steve versus his ties to the past. This Sam, dream or not, is four years behind, easily overwhelmed by the love and devotion and  _ want _ that's radiating off Steve like a furnace. 

And loving  _ this _ Sam won’t bring  _ his _ Sam back.

Sam pouts as Steve pulls back mid-kiss. Before Steve can decide what to say, how much to explain, the front door slams open.

“What the  _ hell?” _

~

Dork Steve glares from across the room. Steve doesn’t mean to think of his past self as Dork Steve, but, well. The tight shirt and fluffy hair aren’t doing anything to change his mind.

After the most basic of explanations had been shared, and several showers were enjoyed, Sam had affirmed his intention to join the team and a plan to free his wings has been hatched. Nat’s amused look had made Steve smile, but she’s long gone, off to Sharon’s apartment to _ spend my potentially last hours on this earth getting laid, I suggest all three of you losers do the same.  _ But Nat’s long gone, and now only Steve, Sam, and Dork Steve remain.

The term  _ glare _ is a little harsh. Dork Steve’s expression - or younger Steve’s expression, rather - is more longing than anything, but he’s also so closed off that Steve wonders if he’s reading his own emotions clearly. His younger self sits in the armchair across from the couch where Sam and Steve sit close together. Steve’s arm is wound around Sam’s waist, and Sam hasn’t given any indication that he wants it to move. Sam’s eyes dart between the Steves as the silence stretches on.

Finally, Sam clears his throat. “So. This is awkward.”

Steve chuckles, as does his younger self. “Eh,” younger Steve says with a shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t think this’d make my top ten most awkward moments, honestly.”

“Not even close,” Steve agrees. 

Younger Steve looks at Steve’s hand on Sam’s waist. “So, in the future, or whatever universe you’re from. Sam and I are together?”

“You are.” A sharp pain stings his words, and younger Steve’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Is Sam happy? Do I treat him right?”

Honestly, Steve thinks to himself, he is a dork over all things Sam in any universe. “You try your damndest.”

Younger Steve looks satisfied with that. Sam rubs one eye with his palm and shakes his head.

“The way you look at me, man… I have no doubt we’re happy.”

Steve’s chest tightens, and it takes everything in his power not to bundle Sam back into his arms and never let go. Losing so many in the Snap had been devastating, but losing Sam had crushed him in a way that was indescribable. They’d been partners in every way possible for the last four years. Sam had been his one constant through everything since SHIELD fell, and even though he’d made sure to show Sam every day how much he was treasured, it still doesn’t feel like enough, now that Steve has lost him.

Guilt floods him as he looks back at his younger self. “I shouldn’t be here. I’ve had my Sam for four years, but you two… this is only the beginning for you. I don’t want to ruin that.”

He starts to pull his arm back, but Sam’s hand rests firmly on his wrist. “Whoa, now. I don’t know, maybe y’all,” he gestured between Steve and younger Steve, “are used to this sort of thing, but this is a new one for me. A once in a lifetime opportunity, probably.”

“Huh?” Steve is confused, but he notices his younger self’s eyes widen as his cheeks begin to flush.

Sam grins at him, a little dangerously, then he looks over at younger Steve. “Well? You getting it?”

Younger Steve grins back, even as his blush darkens. He nods, and Sam moves to rest his free hand on Steve’s thigh. Steve feels his pulse quicken as he puts the pieces together. 

Looks like they’re taking Nat’s advice after all.

Both Sam and younger Steve look at him, as though they expect him to take the lead. Steve takes one deep, grounding breath. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You two haven’t even had your first kiss yet. Maybe we should start there.”

The bashful expressions on Sam and younger Steve’s faces have Steve biting back his laughter. Fuck, he’s forgotten what it was like to be this young, fresh faced at the start of a relationship. He’s only four years ahead of them, but in this moment it feels like decades. He removes his arm from Sam’s waist and gives Sam’s shoulder a gentle nudge. 

Sam squares up his shoulders as he stands. Younger Steve is on his feet just as fast. They meet in the middle of the living room, and the moment that passes between them is so tender that Steve nearly tears up. Younger Steve looks so…  _ young. _ The uncertainty in his stance melts away as he rests one hand on Sam’s waist, without hesitation. Steve’s always been sure of Sam, since the first moment they met. Steve was the one to seek out Sam on his run, to reach out and make that connection, even when he was still so hesitant about letting people in. Steve knows damn well that the thought of kissing Sam has been in his younger self’s head ever since he called out that first  _ on your left. _

Steve watches as Sam’s eyes flutter closed. Sam leans into younger Steve’s kiss and lets his fingers brush against younger Steve’s jawline before they wrap around the back of his neck. Younger Steve sighs and presses closer to Sam. As the kiss deepens, Steve feels himself growing hard in his sweatpants. His breath hitches as younger Steve moves to kiss his way down Sam’s neck. The sound of Sam letting out a soft groan has Steve biting back one of his own.

Younger Steve seems to notice. He catches Steve’s eye and nods against the curve of Sam’s neck. Steve takes less than half a second to think about how surreal this is before he’s up against Sam’s back, kissing the opposite side of Sam’s neck as his hips press against Sam’s ass. He lets his hands wander over the broad expanse of Sam’s shoulders and down the tops of his biceps, strong and warm through the thin material of his shirt.

Sam feels like home in his arms. Steve loves the way Sam’s eyelashes flutter as his younger self does something to Sam’s collarbone that makes his breath shake. Steve grins to himself. He’s always loved taking Sam apart and lavishing him with love. And tonight, Sam’s gong to get two Steves worth of devotion.

~

They wind up in the bedroom, clothes discarded in the hallway, comforter pushed to the floor. Sam’s sprawled across the bed on his back. His fingers dig into the sheets as his chest moves up and down erratically.

Younger Steve traces kisses across the planes of Sam’s chest. Two fingers circle Sam’s nipple and give a sharp tug; Sam hisses in appreciation. Younger Steve smiles against Sam’s pec, smugness and wonder fighting for equal space in his expression as he gives another squeeze.

Steve grins from his vantage point between Sam’s legs. Sam’s chest is smooth shaven, something else that will change over the next four years. Steve likes it when Sam lets his chest hair grow out a little, loves brushing his fingertips against it as they fuck. Tonight, however, the difference is comforting. It gives Steve that edge of dissonance from the Sam he lost.

He focuses back on the task at hand, which is bringing Sam to the brink. One of Steve’s hands jerks the shaft of Sam’s dick as Steve’s tongue works the underside of the head. Steve’s got two fingers inside of Sam, and he can tell by the small movements of Sam’s hips that he’s enjoying the tight friction against his rim.

Every so often Steve dips down to suck a kiss on Sam’s inner thigh. He lets his beard rub against the sensitive skin, smirking to himself when he hears Sam murmur in appreciation. Younger Steve should start growing out his beard now, Steve thinks to himself, give Sam a few extra years of gentle beard burn to enjoy. 

Before it’s too late.

“Please.” Sam’s voice is hoarse, though he hasn’t raised it above a whisper. “Please, I need…”

Younger Steve gives Sam’s nipple another tug, then moves to kiss his forehead. He looks over at Steve and raises an eyebrow. Apparently, Steve’s in charge tonight, which is fine with him. He thinks for a moment, then issues his commands. 

Younger Steve sits up against the headboard. He slides on a condom and slicks it with lube. Sam kneels over younger Steve’s hips, back to chest. Steve keeps his hands on Sam’s hips, steadying him as he sinks onto younger Steve’s dick. Thanks to Steve’s attentive ministrations, he’s relaxed, pliant as he works his way down.

Once Sam’s fully seated, he starts to move. Steve doesn’t release his grip on Sam’s hips as they grind against younger Steve, who arches his head back as his hands creep around to Sam’s chest. Steve leans in to kiss Sam, slow and languid, and he hears a strangled moan escape from his younger self. 

Steve grabs Sam’s dick in his hand; the weight is warm, familiar as he starts to jerk it in time with Sam’s movements. His own dick is hard and leaking, but he doesn’t care about that right now. This is about Sam. Sam asked for this, Sam  _ deserves _ this, to be loved on by as many Steves as he chooses.

Then Sam wraps his hand around Steve’s own dick, and Steve loses his composure. Fuck, he’s been denied Sam’s touch for so long, and now Sam is  _ here, _ with one hand on his dick and the other at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Steve responds with fervor, jerking Sam off with more vigor as his younger self gasps and runs his fingers down Sam’s chest.

Younger Steve chokes out a sob, and Steve can tell that he’s coming as his hips thrust upward. Sam follows shortly, spilling all over Steve’s hand as he breathes heavy against the crook of Steve’s neck. Younger Steve’s chin rests on Sam’s shoulder as he holds Sam close to his chest through his release.

Steve pulls his hand away, and younger Steve immediately grabs him by his wrist and brings Steve’s hand up to his face. Younger Steve licks Sam’s come off Steve’s fingers, pulling them into his mouth and sucking them slowly. Sam’s hand is still moving on Steve’s dick, breath hot against Steve’s neck, cheek soft against the roughness of Steve’s beard, and within seconds Steve’s tumbling the edge, pulsing in Sam’s hand as the eyes of his younger self drink in the scene.

The three of them stay still for a moment. Steve closes his eyes and presses his cheek closer to Sam’s, then pulls back to grab some tissues from the nightstand. Sam hisses as he moves forward to let younger Steve’s dick slide out of him. Younger Steve quickly shifts to wrap his arms around Sam’s waist for support. He kisses the nape of Sam’s neck, so carefully that Steve feels his chest tighten.

They look perfect together, this younger Steve and Sam. Happy, sated, connected the way they’ve been for the last four years, though it hasn’t even been four days. Sam and Steve have always been in sync right from the start. Seeing this Sam and younger Steve so blissed out together makes Steve ache.

He wants  _ his _ Sam back.

~

Sam lies on the bed, with a Steve nestled against each side. Steve watches Sam’s face intently as he chuckles and gives a slight shake of his head. 

“So,” Sam muses. “That actually happened. Damn.”

Younger Steve laughs against Sam’s shoulder, and in that moment, Steve feels more out of place than he has all day. They look so happy together, here at the start of their shared future. It’s bittersweet to see them share a quick kiss, knowing that the countdown to their last kiss has begun.

Sam shifts so that younger Steve can look over his chest. The wrinkles in their foreheads match as they give Steve inquisitive looks. 

“You in for tomorrow’s mission?” Younger Steve asks.

He could say yes. Maybe if he helped, they could manage to bring Bucky in safely, too. It’s a tempting thought, but Steve quickly pushes it aside. Bucky had needed time on his own, and Steve’s not about to take away any more of his autonomy. And he’s dropped enough veiled hints that Nat will be able to coordinate a few things more smoothly this time around. Besides, he knows that in the end, they’ll work things out.

“No,” Steve replies. “I’ve got a few missions of my own.”

It’s time to focus on his own ending. Steve had been devastated after the Snap, but he and Nat had forged ahead. Their determination to find a solution had dimmed as the weeks wore on with no progress, and before they knew it, they’d started to settle uncomfortably into new routines as they’d struggled not to dwell on the past.

Steve knows he can’t change the past, but that doesn’t mean he won’t fight like hell to get his future back. There  _ has _ to be a way, Steve knows it. And these few stolen hours with Sam have been more than enough to give him the strength to keep trying.

Steve will enjoy a few more minutes here in the quiet of Sam’s bedsheets, and then he’ll get up, head to New York, put a call in to Thor, hitch a ride back on that orb to his own timeline, and then he’ll double down on assembling the Avengers and figuring out next moves. 

Because Steve refuses to believe there’s any timeline or reality where he and Sam won’t find each other again.


End file.
